o it, but found him too much
engrossed to see me at the moment; so I returned to the "vettura," and
we told Gaetano to carry us to a hotel. He established us at the Albergo
della Fontana, a good and comfortable house. Mr. Powers called in the
evening--a plain personage, characterized by strong simplicity and warm
kindliness, with an impending brow, and large eyes, which kindle as he
speaks. He is gray, and slightly bald, but does not seem elderly, nor
past his prime. I accept him at once as an honest and trustworthy man,
and shall not vary from this judgment. Through his good offices, the
next day we engaged the Casa del Bello. This journey from Rome has been
one of the brightest and most uncareful interludes of my life; we have
all enjoyed it exceedingly, and I am happy that our children have it to
look back upon.

THE OLD PALACE AND THE LOGGIA[28]

BY THEOPHILE GAUTIER

Every great capital has its eye; at Rome it is the Campo Vaccino; at
Paris, the Boulevard des Italiens; at Venice, the Place St. Mark; at
Madrid, the Prado; at London, the Strand; at Naples, the Via di Toledo.
Rome is more Roman, Paris more Parisian, Venice more Venetian, Madrid
more Spanish, London more English, Naples more Neapolitan, in that
privileged locality than anywhere else. The eye of Florence is the Place
of the Grand Duke--a beautiful eye. In fact, suppress that Place and
Florence has no more meaning--it might be another city. It is at that
Place, therefore, that every traveler ought to begin, and, moreover, had
he not that intention, the tide of pedestrians would carry him and the
streets themselves would conduct him thither.

The first aspect of the Place of the Grand Duke has an effect so
charming, so picturesque, so complete, that you comprehend all at once
into what an error the modern capitals like London, Paris, St.
Petersburg, fall in forming, under the pretext of squares, in their
compact masses, immense empty spaces upon which they run aground all
possible and impossible modes of decoration. One can touch with his
finger the reason which makes of the Carrousel and Place de la Concorde,
great empty fields which absorb fountains, statues, arches of triumph,
obelisks, candelabra, and little gardens. All these embellishments, very
pretty on paper, very agreeable also, without doubt, viewed from a
balloon, are almost lost for the spectator who can not grasp the whole,
his height only rising five feet above the ground.

A